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COOKIES & PRIVACY POLICY

Not stalking, but waiting

The Rubbish Lesbian is NOT stalking her therapist, ok?

Sarah Westwood

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 13:19:57 GMT | Updated 1 years today

I'm in the middle of a misunderstanding of Miranda-sized proportions. My friend is currently viewing a flat. Not any old flat but the flat right next door to my therapist. If their doormats were any closer they'd need to get a room. I gave her a lift to the viewing and now I'm trapped outside in my car waiting for her to return. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see my therapist appear at my car window.  Oh shit. She thinks I'm here for her.
 
I can imagine how this looks. Her face seems to be registering surprise and terror at the same time. She probably thinks I'm secretly in love with her and drive here often just to sit outside her house. I am that lesbian stalker she's read about in The Daily Mail. She must know that's not in my nature? I'm an avoider not a stalker.
 
I want to scream, "It's not what it looks like. I can explain!" But instead I gesture a silent acknowledgement. I raise my hand but don't actually follow through with the wave, so my now raised hand is just hanging in the air like an admission of guilt. Less of a "hello" and more, "Fair cop. You caught me."
 
I don't even think I'm supposed to say, "Hello"? The first rule of therapy is don't contact your therapist out of your allocated hour. The second rule of therapy is don't contact your therapist out of your allocated hour. The third rule of therapy is - and I'm guessing here - don't curb crawl your therapist.
 
I could just say nothing and tough it out, but instead I wind down the window and attempt to explain the situation the reason for my presence.  Just as I finish my unconvincing tale my friend re-appears, jumps into the passenger seat, and delivers her verdict: "No way I could live here. It's a dump." Oh God I thought there was nothing worse than my friend moving next door to my therapist, but I was wrong. Dissing her hood is so much worse. I raise my eyebrows at the therapist as if to say, "She's clearly mad." She just calmly tilts her head to one side, gives me 'the look', and says, "We can talk about this on Monday."

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